Running under the wrath of the storm, Amy found herself bursting at the seams. The angry spattering of raindrops on her skin matched the intense beating of her broken heart. It was almost as though the rain was crying out for her. Each drop of water a tear for her sorrow.
And the lightning and thunder.
They were like flashes of her rage. Sharp and loud and powerful. Each strike lit the darkened sky as if it was day, filling the atmosphere with power. Like how her wrath cleared her mind for her, bringing her thoughts into focus. The thunders that followed were like screams of fury. Deafening. Frightening. Like the wailing of an infuriated spirit.
She continued to run into the open. Amy was unafraid of the lightning bolts. Though they came one after the other, mere seconds apart. She d
